And He Fled
by Aku no Hanabi
Summary: Il Forte Grantz was killed by Renji Abarai and that was the last anyone heard of him, but his brother was the exception. "You are nothing, insignificant, pathetic and utterly worthless. Remember your place, you do as I say because I outrank you."
1. Chapter 1

_You better wake up soon, you damn idiot. Getting yourself blown up like that. You should be grateful I'm willing to regenerate your body so you can escape Aizen's tyranny. Fuckin bastard ain't all he cracked up to be after all. If you don't wake up then I'll feed your body to Yammy. It'll serve you right for being so stupid. Challenging a captain level shinigami without even analyzing his abilities yet… sheer idiocy. You're lucky I injected my spy bugs into your system so I know what exactly went wrong._

_I think before you wake up I'll dye your hair pink, just to piss you off. It wpuld serve you right for being such a damn bastard. I cant believe a grantz was taken down so easily. You didn't even put up a twenty minute fight, and most of what you did was just empty threats and taunting. What can you expect to do with that kind of endurance? Or lack therof… what were you planning to do, talk him to death? Your nothing, insignificant, pathetic and utterly worthless._

_God fucking damn it open your damn eyes Il Forte! Don't you know if you don't wake up in the next four days twenty one hours and three minutes I'll be forced to label this experiment a failure?! Do you even know what a failure means for both of us?! If this fails Aizen could get ahold of this experimental information and make me resurrect all his dead play things or minions or whatever the hell we are!_

_Il forte… you're running out of time. Just please pull through._

_You have three days exactly to recover and awaken. If by that time you have not regained consciousness I'll be forced to take you off the life support system and let your new heart stop beating._

_You are running out of time, brother! If you don't pull through I'll… I'll have nothing to live for._

_Tomorrow is your last chance, Il Forte. If I come into the lab tomorrow and you aren't awake I'll have no choice. Otherwise Aizen will find out about the technology I've created and will be unstoppable. Remember your place, brother, you do as I say because I outrank you. Now open your eyes, of it's the end of us both._

He opened his eyes. Everything was blurry; he closed them immediately when they started to sting. Why did this surprise him? Considering who his little brother was he should be used to being abused in his weird experiments already. Szayel always loved to torture him.

His head hurt.

It was a sharp pain, on the left side of his head. What happened? Surely he didn't have that much fun last night…

No.

Last night he only had one drink with Shawlawng before he was called upon to go to the real world. He fought that red haired shinigami and the tiny genocidal child and… and… and he got hit with Zabimaru's hikotsu taiho.

His head swam. What happened next? He couldn't remember. He didn't lose, because he was alive. That idiot shinigami wouldn't leave an arrancar alive if he knew what was good for him. But he didn't win.

So… the battle wasn't over?

He tried to open his eyes again. His lids felt bruised and heavy, like flower petals that were slightly wilted. His eyes still stung, but he forced them to stay open.

Blue. He saw blue. It was a pale blue, the kind of pale blue you get when you mix four drops of blue food coloring and one drop of green food coloring in a glass of water. It was a pretty blue; a teal blue. He could see through it. he saw a bit of wavy pale whitish, yellowish bluish stuff. Like the seaweed got stuck in his trunks when he last visited the real world and Di-Roy forced him to come relax at the beach with him. But it wasn't seaweed. It kind of looked like… hair.

It was his hair.

Well of course it was his hair. Who else had such beautiful pale golden locks?

His thought process was much slower than normal, so it took him a minute to realize that he was cold. He wasn't shivering; the temperature was just chilly enough to be uncomfortable but bearable. So, he tried to put it together, pain, blue, hair, cold… what the _hell_ was going on?

He sighed, watching the bubbles that escaped from his mouth float to the surface. They were pretty. He liked the bubbles. He vaguely wondered what would happen to them, where they would go when they finally reached the surface. Somewhere in the back of his head the voice that existed to make him miserable, which coincidentally sounded a lot like Szayel, explained that the carbon dioxide would be released into the surrounding space and mingle with whatever other gases might be present, but he wasn't listening.

He was too busy panicking about being submerged in water.


	2. Chapter 2

Il forte would have been concerned about how he got where he was, if he was not panicking about his current situation. Arrancar couldn't _breathe_ underwater. He thrashed violently, his hair whipping around his head and blinding him momentarily. He wrenched his hair away from his face, positive he was tearing ripping and breaking several silky strands in the process. He lashed out wildly, only for his clenched fist to hit something solid. Subconsciously, he realized of course there had to be something solid because something had to be containing the fluid he was in, but, again, he was too busy worrying about said fluid filling his lungs and drowning him. He writhed as something wrapped around his neck and his right arm. It felt like it was moving.

Then, there was a flash of movement within his vision, and it was moving too fast to be inside the…. Whatever he was contained in, and just like that, he was out of the water.

Strangely, as he was deposited on a cold stone floor, wet and shivering and exhausted from his struggle, he was not out of breath or coughing up water. That meant he could breathe all along and… there was… no need for panic. Il forte internally pouted.

"welcome back to the world of the living, or as alive as an arrancar can be, I suppose. As amusing as it was to see you flop about pathetically, now you have to get up and stop dripping all over my floor." That voice…

"Go fuck yourself."

"Hardly any way to talk to your superiors, Il forte."

"I'm older than you."

"Age is of no importance here, my dearest brother; the only thing that matters is power, all of which I currently possess." Il forte merely grunted and crossed his arms, glaring at the pink haired scientist standing with a smug look on his face. Szayelapollo Grantz was not his favorite person in the world, but he was much preferable to Aizen or any of his lackeys. He supposed he should be some sort of grateful towards his slightly (very most defiantly completely) insane brother for saving him. That _is_ what happened right? Szayel saved him?

Why did he even care? He should have died when Abarai hit him with his twice damned Zanpakuto.

He was jarred from his thoughts by Szayel approaching him. He tried to back up, but he grabbed his arm. He tried to struggle as his brother pulled him onto a shiny medical exam table with ominous leather straps on each corner, but his strength failed him.

"stay still" Szayel snapped. Il forte immediately ceased all voluntary movement. A pissed off Szayel was not a safe Szayel to have in company.

He let Szayel spread his limbs across the table, and for the first time, realized he wasn't wearing anything. It didn't particular bother him, just about every one higher up in the pecking order than him had had him naked under them at one time or another. So he just lied there.

Szayel began preparing something and wiped a patch of Il fortes skin with an alcohol pad. He turned back to whatever he was preparing and retrieved a very large, very intimidating needle. Il forte began to worm away, knowing he was about to be drugged so Szayel could experiment on him. It was standard procedure: Szayel drugged him, Szayel took his measurements and heart rate, and Szayel cut him open and messed with his insides.

Before he could move too far though, Szayel gripped his shoulder tightly.

"stay put" he ordered. Il forte gulped. He contemplated disobeying, but decided it wasn't worth the risk. Szayel never permanently hurt him. Except for that one time he forcibly removed his spleen and left a giant scar across his back… not to mention all those other injuries that never really healed right because Szayel screwed with his medicine.

Il forte bolted. It didn't matter where he went, as long as it wasn't here. He only made it a few inches before both his legs were grabbed by Szayel's fraccione, Lulia and Veronica, or something like that. The leather straps were fastened around his legs and his arms were secured seconds later.

"shit" he muttered under his breath.

"indeed." Whoops. Szayel heard him.

In a flash, the IV was in his arm. Il forte was screwed.

Szayel began poking his ribs non-too gently. He pressed his fingers over where his heart should be, his collar bone, and throat. He started to get a bit nervous. He didn't like the idea of someone who hated him touching such a vital part of his body.

But Szayel just held his fingers to the vein on the side of his neck, and then moved on after scrawling some notes on a clipboard. He continued checking Il forte over. Whatever Szayel gave him through the IV was taking effect, he felt oddly calm and his extremities felt slightly heavy. He was drugged.

He felt a cold something on his chest, looking, he saw it was a stethoscope.

"breathe deeply." Il forte didn't comply. "or I'll asphyxiate you." He didn't have much of a choice when Szayel clamped his hand over his nose and mouth effectively cutting off his air supply. He tried to draw breath but his lungs only seemed to be squeezed tightly in his chest. His throat began to burn as Szayel's hand gripped his face tighter. He began to squirm with discomfort and desperation. His vision grew fuzzy around the edges and panic set it. Szayel wouldn't really suffocate him… right? Well, he _had_ failed to kill the shinigami.

Just as Il forte began to black out the pinkette removed his hand. Il forte gasped lungful's of sweet air. He was vaguely aware of Szayel moving his stethoscope around his chest, listening to his lungs as they filled and emptied in frenzy.

"that was…. A dirty…. Trick, brother" Il forte choked out between breaths.

"whatever is necessary to achieve results" his brother answered casually, too casually for Il fortes liking.

But Szayel hated him. So why should he care if Szayel thought of him as no more than just another test subject? He was nothing, insignificant, pathetic, and utterly worthless. What happened to all his self-confidence? He was a Grantz. The Grantz brothers were infamous.

"your leaving" Szayel suddenly announced.

"what?" Il forte was genuinely confused for a moment before his brother clarified.

"Aizen thinks you're dead. Whatever Abarai hit you with killed you, and as far as he's concerned your six feet under in a wooden box right now." Szayel removed the needle from Il forte's arm and began cleaning it.

"so… wait, what?" Szayel sighed.

"this is your chance to escape, brother dearest, or must I spell it out for you?" Il forte spluttered.

"but, h-how? Why?" Szayel merely resigned himself to answering his questions. He loved explaining his work after all.

"it's actually very quiet simple, really. I took a short trip to the living world to gather what was left of your pathetic self, which admittedly, wasn't much. Then I extracted your DNA and with information from previous experiments I've performed on you I was able to regenerate your body, and luckily for you, your soul came back with it." Il forte let it all sink in.

"so, the thing, that water thing-"

"a regeneration tank, and it wasn't water, insolent specimen, it was regeneration fluid, a mixture of carbon and other elements necessary to life. As to why, it was because I simply wanted to see if I could. This was nothing more than to sate my own curiosity and when the opportunity presented itself I couldn't resist. Now that the operation was a success, you might as well make the best of it and get out of this hell hole the rest of us are still damned to. I guess I should thank you, by the way, because now that I have the right technology, I have a failsafe if I ever 'die' in battle."

"t-that's nice, brother." Szayel was quiet now; he'd finished cleaning the needle and started releasing Il forte from the table. The blonde rubbed his sore wrists tenderly. Szayel rummaged in a cabinet and withdrew a spare set or arrancar robes. They belonged to the pinkette.

"here" he tossed them to Il forte. "it makes me sick looking at you with so little clothing." Il forte snorted and began to dress himself. Then he noticed something.

"Szayel" he began tentatively, "where's my hollow hole?" Szayel didn't answer. In fact, he completely ignored him. "Szayel, tell me what happened to my hollow hole." This time it wasn't a question, it was a demand. "Szayel!"

"it didn't grow back!" Szayel snapped back. Il forte felt as if Szayel had just told him his Zanpakuto was destroyed.

"it… what? It didn't grow back" he said weakly. Il forte fell to his knees. It was as if a part of him was gone, which was strangle ironic, as now there was more of him without the gaping black hole in his chest. He likened the feeling to losing a beloved, except, he had never been close enough to anyone to be sad when they died.

"and while we're on the subject you'll never be getting your Zanpakuto back either. It was destroyed when you died. Just because you came back to life doesn't mean your Zanpakuto did to."

"i-I… my Zanpakuto… never?"

"correct" Szayel confirmed coldly. "you'll have to learn to use a different weapon. Also, you have very little time before your reitsu returns and you will be detectable. You have five days, six at most, before your reitsu begins to return. You have that time to train yourself to survive in Hueco Mundo, otherwise Aizen will find you and not only pressgang you back into service, but also commandeer the technology I used to regenerate you and make me revive any other worthless idiots who get themselves killed." It was a lot to take in at once.

"right… so, what now?" he asked, finally collecting himself off the floor and sitting on the exam table.

"now, you rest, because if you don't I fear your body will break down. It's still fragile, and you have nowhere near the power you had before you died. Rest in my room and stay quiet. Not even my fraccione can know about you. You are a top secret experiment, and the results will be kept off record. Now get out of my sight." Il forte nodded, and headed off towards Szayel's quarters. He'd only been there a few times, but remembered the way well enough. He was one of the few individuals who'd ever seen the inside of Szayel's room. Of course Aizen had seen it, but he made a point not to invade his espadas personal lives unless necessary. Something about trust or some shit like that. Nnoitra had been there on occasion for reasons Il forte wished forget, and Grimmjow once, but that was because he pissed off Halibell and she broke his arm at 2 am on one of the rare nights Szayel had actually been sleeping.

Reflecting, Il forte realized that other than Szayel himself, he was the one who frequented his room the most. His fraccione had strict rules to not enter the room without express permission from the pink haired espada.

The blonde reached a door marked with a large black gothic '8' and pushed it open. The room hadn't changed one bit. The walls were painted pink, a black bedspread covered a queen-sized bed, an oak desk in the corner was covered with papers diagrams and notes and looked like an extension of Szayel's lab. The dressers were also oak and all held arrancar uniforms, except the two top drawers which contained his real world clothes and undergarments. His real world clothes consisted of jeans, t-shirts, tank tops, skirts, and a sexy pink and black swimsuit. Il fortes real world clothes had been similar, but he had no doubt they were gone now. His room had most likely been handed over to one of the lesser arrancar that had no doubt squabbled over his position once he died. How long had it been since then anyway?

He caught sight of the calendar hanging in the corner of the room. The picture was of some sort of molecule called methylbenzene, which was apparently formed when a benzene molecule had one of its hydrogen atoms replaced with a methyl group. Each day was crossed off until the fourteenth.

It was already the fourteenth? It'd already been six days. Six days ago he died. Six days ago no one mourned him and six days ago his brother collected his remains, not to lay them to rest, but to experiment on them and possibly destroy them in the process. What a miserable idea. He sighed.

Il forte lied down on the bed, noting as he did so, that his arrancar helmet was gone. It didn't come as a surprise to him. He pulled the covers over him and closed his eyes, not caring if his brother got mad. If Szayel didn't like it then he shouldn't have brought him back to life. If Szayel didn't like it then he could kick his ass out and let Aizen reinstate him as the quince espada. But then Aizen would find about Szayel's regeneration machine invention, and his brother wouldn't want that, because it was their means to escape.

He should value this opportunity, but he couldn't bring himself to be grateful to Szayel for saving him.

He was better off content with being dead than living without a purpose.


End file.
